


Emotional Baggage

by Actual_Trash_Can



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bellarke, Blow Jobs, Dom/sub Undertones, Emotional Baggage, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Therapy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-04 16:16:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10994469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Actual_Trash_Can/pseuds/Actual_Trash_Can
Summary: Modern AU where Clarke and Bellamy find themselves attending the same college campus group therapy sessions to work out their individual issues, but discover that working on them together gets better (and more pleasurable) results.~~~~~ NOT ABANDONED, JUST ON HIATUS UNTIL I GET MY INSPIRATION FOR THIS FIC BACK ~~~~~





	1. Father Dearest

Clarke had been attending group therapy for a few months now, ever since her very public breakdown at school on Father’s Day. Her college didn’t usually do much to celebrate the holidays, but this year they were trying to win some award for most interactive school, so they went a little overboard. Valentine’s Day ended with pink and red glitter adorning every student body, on Easter all classes were interrupted for a campus wide Easter egg hunt, and on Mother’s Day everyone with allergies had to take the day off because the halls were decorated like a flower shop. For every celebration the school had a little speech over the PA, spewing some heavily rehearsed bullshit about the meaning of the holiday. It was the speech on Father’s Day that left Clarke hyperventilating in an empty classroom, fighting back tears and a rising threat of vomit.

Her father had passed away when she was 15, a suicide that left her and her mother with a whole world of problems. A year later when they were just getting their footing back, her mother was falsely arrested for the murder of her father. The cops had found insufficient evidence towards a suicide and had began investigating the matter as a homicide, but after months of radio silence they had assumed it was over. So the arrest came as a surprise just as things were starting to settle down, causing Clarke’s whole life to spiral.

At the young age of 16 she moved in with her mother’s lifelong best friend and his son, Theloneous and Wells Jaha. The situation wasn’t ideal but it was far better than the alternative foster care, so she accepted it with little complaint. Three years later after countless court cases and various lawyers, they finally got detectives to review the case, and Abby Griffin was ultimately found not guilty.

But by the time her mother was released, Clarke had already graduated high school and moved away for College. Their relationship needed repair that neither of them had the time or energy for, leaving them civil and polite to each other with little else.

So it goes without saying that any talk about fathers sends Clarke spiraling, a problem she realized would probably affect her life pretty significantly considering you can’t take 20 minutes to have a panic attack every time someone mentions their dad.

This realization had landed her in the free weekly group therapy session that Arkadia College offered, sitting in uncomfortable chairs that make your ass numb, along with a handful of equally numb-assed young adults. Among them was Bellamy Blake, her best friend’s older brother who had been avoiding eye contact with her ever since he entered the room. She assumes this is his first time visiting since she’d never seen him here before and she rarely misses a session (she can’t really afford to, on a “how fucked up are you” scale of 1 to 10 she’s getting dangerously close to an 11).

She didn’t know Bellamy that well other than the occasional small talk as she sat in the apartment he shared with his sister Octavia waiting for her to get ready. There were also the rare moments when they found themselves attending the same parties, once they were about 3 drinks in they always ended up bickering and debating about whichever topics their drunk minds could conjure. They never seemed to talk about it once they sobered up.

An awful scraping noise quickly snapped her out of her daze, her eyes struggling to refocus to the world around her. “All right that was a fantastic session everyone, I’m really proud of everyone who decided to speak today. To all of you who didn’t, continue to take as much time as you need. Remember this is a safe space, you don’t have to talk until you’re ready.” The school guidance counselor who had enthusiastically signed on to run these groups was dragging her chair behind her as she pulled it away from the circle in the middle of the class and placed it to the side. “We’ll meet here again next Monday at the same time. I hope to see some familiar faces!” And with that people started filing out, some scurrying out as quickly as they could, others taking the time to place the chairs back or mumble to one another.

Clarke peered around the room looking for Bellamy but he was already long gone, having probably been the first to bolt. She didn’t know much about him but she did know he wasn’t much for talking about his feelings. She wondered if she’d see him again next week, and was surprised to find her chest fluttering at the prospect.


	2. Hopeful

Later that evening Clarke was puttering around her kitchen grabbing various ingredients she hoped would miraculously turn into a meal. After much brain storming she settled on making soup, a boring but sustainable meal with little effort required. She grabbed her phone and began shuffling through her music trying to find a good playlist to carry her through the dull meal prep she was dreading. With her free hand she rinsed the vegetables under tap water, setting them on a cutting board to the side. She had finally chosen a playlist when her phone buzzed in her hand alerting her to a text message.

Bellamy Blake:

hey clarke I know I don’t really have the right to ask this but could you please not tell octavia you saw me today?

They had only texted once before and it was about a year ago when Clarke had found Octavia passed out in the bathroom at a party they were crashing. She had texted Bellamy to come save them, he had begrudgingly agreed. She really only had his number for emergencies really, they weren’t anything more than acquaintances. So to receive a text this vulnerable from him felt odd. Clarke re-read the text again before typing out a response.

Clarke Griffin:

I’ll keep it our secret on one condition.

Bellamy Blake:

what condition…

Clarke Griffin: 

You keep coming to group. It’s obvious you had a reason to be there, I don’t want to stand in the way of you attending. 

Clarke found herself biting her nails as she anxiously waited for a reply. She wondered if she was asking too much of him, it shouldn’t be any of her business, she knew she was intruding in something personal. She started writing him again with the intention of playing the whole thing off as a joke when a reply from him appeared. 

Bellamy Blake:

okay I’ll be there

A small smile crept on to Clarke’s lips and she set down her phone with satisfaction. She turned back to her kitchen counter and glared at the vegetables, settling on ordering a pizza instead.

 

 

The following week seemed to drag on. Clarke tried to fill her days with schoolwork, which she usually loved. She was studying to get her art degree which meant most of her homework was the same thing she did in her free time. However this week she found it especially hard to get invested in her projects. She couldn't stop thinking about what it'd be like to be in such intimate conditions with someone who was (somewhat) a part of her social group. One of the perks of group therapy was that you could completely pour yourself out to a group of strangers and there was no fear of judgement because outside of group no one cared about one another. Not in a mean way, there was just a general understanding that everyone was there to deal with their own personal problems. They offered kindness and support to each other within the confines of the one hour session but outside of that it was pretty much every man for himself. The idea of Bellamy hearing her most personal thoughts and feeling suddenly struck fear into her. What if he thought her problems were silly? Would he share her stories with his friends for a quick laugh on a Friday night? Or what if he realized that her put together demeanor was a facade, would he decide she was too unhinged to hang out with his sister?

A quick knock announced a presence at her door before her best friend flung the it open, regardless of the lack of invitation in. "Speak of the devil." Clarke whispered under her breath, springing up from her seat and pushing all negative thoughts about Bellamy aside. Octavia was struggling to balance a box of donuts in one hand while holding a wine bottle in the other, her arm being weighed down by a purse the size of a small whale. She kicked the door closed behind her with her foot and nearly lost balance in her heels, causing Clarke to lunge forward to save the donuts.

"You are possibly the clumsiest person I have ever met," Clarke said. "I hope you never get a hold of sharp objects. Octavia with a sword is not someone I'd want around me."

"I will keep that in mind when the apocalypse comes and I have to pick my weapon of choice." she retorted with a wink. She crossed the small space in Clarke's bachelor that connects her living room to her kitchen and set the wine down on the counter. Plucking two glasses out of Clarke's bare cabinet she began pouring them some wine. Clarke was already nuzzled into her couch, flipping through movies on Netflix and chewing on a pink sprinkled donut from the box Octavia brought.

"OH MY GOD!" Octavia gasped, quickly grabbing Clarke's attention. "ARE YOU HOOKING UP WITH BELLAMY?" Octavia was holding Clarke's phone in her hand with an exciting grin plastered across her face. Clarke was off the couch so fast she nearly face planted, scurrying on her socks as quickly as her hardwood floors would allow her. When she reached her she yanked the phone out of Octavia's hand with more force than intended and spoke with baited breath. 

"W-why are you looking through my phone!?"

Octavia's former smile was now replaced with confusion. "What the hell Clarke? I was just going to put on some music until we found a movie to watch. You never get like this about your phone... unless," her smile was creeping it's way back, "you and Bellamy really do have something to hide!?"

Octavia's obsession with Clarke and Bellamy's non-existent romance was nothing new. She had been pestering Clarke about dating Bellamy ever since they first met, insisting there was 'undeniable chemistry' between them. Normally Clarke rolled her eyes and ignored her when she got like this, but Clarke had to find out just how much she had read, so she continued prying.

"What did you see Octavia?" she asked warningly.

Octavia scoffed and handed Clarke one of the glasses of wine off the counter. "Relax, I wasn't snooping through your texts." She took a sip of her own glass before continuing. "I opened your phone and it was already open to your messages. All I saw was that he said he 'would be there'," she adorned the last part with dramatic air quotes. "sounded like a booty call to me." She shrugged before walking towards the couch, not attempting to hide her smirk as she sat down and resumed looking for a movie where Clarke left off.

"We're not hooking up. I asked him for help with my latest art project." Clarke said before thinking.

"HA!" Octavia snorted, keeping her eyes on the TV. "What does Bellamy know about art?"

"Uh, I needed him to help me with wood shop... I'm doing a piece on the way we interpret ourselves vs. the way others interpret us." Clarke's lies strung together before her mind caught up. "I need to build a box. A human box. For a human to stand inside. There's more to it but... I don't know how to do that part... so... Bellamy." She punctuated the end of her lie with a gulp loud enough to be heard next door. She hoped Octavia wasn't paying close attention or she'd know for sure that Clarke wasn't telling her the truth.

"Yeah okay, as long as you end up banging inside the box by the end of it, it's fine by me."

Clarke's nose wrinkled up in disgust but she managed to let out a small laugh, dissipating some of her anxiety along with it. "Why do you want us to bang so badly?"

"Duh," Octavia looked up at her over the rim of her half empty wine glass. "Because I want a cool sister in law, and if you've seen Bellamy's track record you know that choice can't be left up to him."

Clarke let herself really laugh this time, joining Octavia on the couch as they decided on watching 10 Things I Hate About You for the hundredth time. As the opening credits filled the room with music Clarke found her mind wandering to her earlier thoughts. Maybe Bellamy wouldn't judge her and they would actually grow closer because of this. If all goes well, she might actually enlist his help creating the 'human box' she came up with just minutes ago. It wasn't a half bad idea, and with some tweaking she might be able to make it her midterm project. She made a mental note of the idea then tried to turn her brain off by finishing her glass of wine. She snuggled up to Octavia and let herself get drawn in by the sounds of Joan Jett ringing out of the screen.

 

 

Monday finally rolled around. Clarke sat quietly among her peers, surveying the daylight filtering through the windows and casting dancing patterns across every stone face. The mood in group was always pretty heavy. Various personalities filtered in to the classroom but after a few minutes of small talk everyone fell into the solemn understanding of why they were all there. It usually stayed silent like this until Ms. Fray, the guidance Councillor, instigated her ritual survey around the room. Today however she seemed to be late. Bellamy, who Clarke definitely wasn’t anxiously waiting for, also seemed to be late.

“No matter how hard you tap your foot, you probably won’t be able to break through the tiles to escape.” A voice drew her attention to her left. A confident smile graced the face of a cheerful looking girl Clarke had taken notice of at the last few sessions. However, this was the first time they had spoken. The girl tucked her hair behind her shoulders and slipped a hair elastic off her wrist. She began gathering her hair into a tight ponytail before pausing to offer her hand to Clarke. 

“I’m Raven.” she introduced herself. It took Clarke a moment to process that someone was actually speaking to her. This was the first time anyone other than Ms. Fray had spoken directly to her in group.

“Clarke.” She answered, taking hold of the small hand and giving it a tiny shake. Raven withdrew her hand and finished putting her hair up. She angled her body back towards the center of the group but continued addressing Clarke. 

“So is there like a rule where we can leave if the teacher doesn’t show up after 10 minutes?” Raven joked. 

“I mean, this group is elective, you could leave whenever you want, really.” Clarke began, then changed her tone halfway through realizing she was being too serious. “But if she’s not here in the next 5, I say we ditch and play hooky.” This earned a chuckle from the ponytailed girl and Clarke felt a surge of accomplishment. Making friends wasn’t something that came easy to her but Raven seemed surprisingly easy to talk to. Clarke was getting ready to make another joke when Ms. Fray loudly announced her presence, pacing quickly into the room and depositing her books and purse on to a nearby desk while she steadied her uneven breath.

“I’m so sorry I’m late, traffic.” She offered as an explanation. “You can start going around the room and use one word to explain how you’re feeling today. I’ll be over in just a second.” She added absentmindedly as she began flipping through her messy stack of papers.

Clarke looked around the room as someone across the circle began speaking. That’s when she spotted Bellamy, a few seats over, watching her sheepishly. She hadn’t noticed him enter, having been too distracted talking to Raven. They locked eyes as his turn came around.

“Hopeful.” He used as his word of the day. The group continued without pause but he gave her a small smile before redirected his attention to the person who was currently speaking. 

Clarke’s heart was attempting to escape her chest. Her mind was working overtime trying to analyze his intentions. Was that directed at her? Was she making him hopeful? Was there something unspoken that had occurred between them when Clarke promised she’d keep his secret?

“Clarke?” Ms. Fray’s voice shook her out of her daze and she suddenly became very aware of the amount of eyes settled on her.

“Uh, yes?” Clarke stuttered.

“What’s your word of the day?” Ms. Fray asked, a calmness soothing her tone.

“Oh, uh…” Clarke gave it some thought and settled on the only thing she could feel at that moment.

“Hopeful.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the second chapter early, as promised! I have lots of ideas of where this is going to go, I just have to figure out how to piece them together. So stay tuned!
> 
> I'm also on tumblr if you'd like to come say hi! the100obsessions.tumblr.com


	3. Making Art, Not Sex

“Hey, hold up!” Clarke jogged to catch up with Bellamy who was, in his usual fashion, rushing his way out of group.

“Hey.” he responded distractedly, adjusting the strap on his messenger bag before shrugging on his jacket, all the while keeping his steady pace towards the parking lot.

“Uh I need to talk to you.”

Bellamy fished his car keys out of his bag and began crossing the yard to his car. “About?”

“It’s about Octavia.” That caught his attention quickly. If there was anything in this world that he cared about, it was his sister. There was already panic rising in his eyes and Clarke quickly fumbled to elaborate.

“Uh no don’t worry, there’s nothing wrong with her. I mean, there’s a lot wrong with her but nothing new. Well there is something new, she thinks we’re having sex. But I told her we’re not, obviously! I, uh…” Clarke could feel her face threatening to turn a violent shade of red, she didn’t know why she always got so flustered while talking to Bellamy. She took a shaky breath to compose herself when Bellamy’s hearty laugh interrupted her.

“Why does O think we’re having sex, exactly?” a playful expression accompanied the question but Clarke was still paralyzed. He took her silence as a cue to continue. “Never mind, I probably don’t want to know what goes on in her head.” They reached his car and he began unlocking it, taking the time to set his lukewarm half empty coffee on the roof first.

“Octavia saw one of your texts on my phone and she thought I was booty calling you.” Clarke gulped. “So instead of telling her the truth I just said you were helping me with an art project.” She read the hesitancy on Bellamy’s face and quickly added “Don’t worry she has no idea about group.”

Bellamy let out an exasperated breath before opening his car door and crouching into the front seat. “Alright good to know. So if Octavia asks, we’re making art and not having sex.” he confirmed.

Clarke smiled at the ground and nodded, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “Yeah, exactly.” She couldn’t help the tone of embarrassment that seeped through her words.

“So I guess we’ll actually have to start hanging out then?” he said, catching her completely off guard. “If we don’t, Octavia might get suspicious.” he added matter of factly.

“This is true.” Clarke agreed with a shy smile.

“Okay then, it’s settled. I’ll pick you up before group next Monday and we’ll grab coffee.” he said while turning the ignition on.

“Speaking of coffee!” Clarke grabbed the cup Bellamy had set on his roof. “Don’t forget this.”

He accepted it with a humble nod. “Thanks Princess.”

Clarke groaned and shook her head to hide her smile. The nickname had emerged a few months ago at a party when Bellamy and her had been debating their opinions on private school. Clarke was for, Bellamy was against. In a rather heated moment he had called her a Princess. The comment broke the tension and resulted in a fit of laughter. ‘Princess’ became her nickname for the rest of the night. Clarke didn’t think Bellamy had remembered the exchange, but the grin on his face proved otherwise. Before she could retort he was pulling out of his parking spot, leaving her watching as his car shrank into the distance.

 

 

Their Monday evening coffee dates before group became a routine. A routine that convinced Octavia they were actually working on an art project together every Monday, which took the heat off Bellamy. They talked about various things over coffee, sometimes Octavia, sometimes group. But most of the time they ended up debating like they had formed a habit of doing on previous drunk nights. The only difference being that there was coffee in their veins instead of beer, and they were level headed enough to keep things light and playful. Clarke found herself actually enjoying their debates. Bellamy would get so passionate about his opinions. No matter what the topic, his eyes would light up and he’d have an arsenal of pros and cons already lined up. She admired his dedication to proving her wrong (though she’d never admit it to him).

This Monday started off no different than the others. They were sitting in the shade of a large oak tree near the campus coffee shop, passing the time until they needed to head towards group. Clarke pulled a handful of grass out of the ground and threw it on Bellamy’s leg absentmindedly while she listened to him argue about which era of Rock was most influential. She wasn’t quite sure how they stumbled on this topic, but Bellamy seemed confident in his stance so Clarke let him continue, despite not having much of an opinion about it herself. 

Her phone beeped alerting her to an e-mail. She hummed towards Bellamy to show she was still listening before unlocking her phone.

“Shit, group is cancelled today.” She interrupts him. 

“What? Why?” He took a long sip of his coffee while leaning over Clarke to read where her eyes were trained on her phone.

“Traffic again, apparently.” Clarke mumbled.

“How much do you want to bet Ms. Fray is actually just having a taboo love affair she can’t pull herself away from?” Bellamy leaned back on his elbows into the pre-existing dent he’d made in the grass over.

“It would explain why she was so out of breath when she came in late a few weeks ago.” She smirked as she wiggled her eyebrows at Bellamy, earning a chuckle.

“Well,” he grunted as he pushed himself off the ground. “If group is cancelled I’m not going to spend any more time here than I need to.” He reached his hand out to help Clarke up.

She accepted his hand and let him pull her to her feet. She felt a sad twinge at the thought of losing time with Bellamy, even if that time was usually spent sitting next to each other silently and letting heaviness wash over them for an hour.

“So what should we do instead?” Bellamy startled her with his question. They had been getting closer these last few weeks since their Monday coffee runs before therapy, but this would be the first time they really hung out. She realized with a panic that she didn’t know what normal friends did. Everyone in her life was on an different level of friendship than she was with Bellamy. Hanging out with them usually consisted of eating body-sized quantities of takeout while cuddled up on a couch and watching movies. Definitely not an activity she could suggest to someone she was still getting to know, although she did let her mind wander towards the thought of how comfortable Bellamy would be to cuddle with.

“Never mind, I have an idea.” He announces before confidently walking back into campus. She followed behind him, chirping in a few “Where are we going?” and “Are we there yet?” as they walked, mostly just to watch Bellamy get annoyed. Finally, they arrived at a building Clarke was unfamiliar with. It was smaller than most of the other buildings on campus despite sporting the same architecture. Bellamy walked over to a side door that led straight into a classroom and pulled the doors open. The smell of sawdust enveloped Clarke before her eyes even adjusted to the setting. The classroom was empty, dim, and quiet as a graveyard. If she didn’t know what time the school locked its doors she’d have assumed they were trespassing. Bellamy sauntered in and grabbed a large piece of wood set behind one of the shelves, tucking it under his arm. Clarke watched as he comfortably paced around the room, picking up various objects and placing them on the table in front of her as he passed. Finally, he grabbed a measuring tape and a pencil before joining her back in the center of the class room. 

“How tall do you think the average person is?” He asked, shaking out his measuring tape. 

“What?” Clarke laughed. “What are you talking about? What are we doing here?”

“We’re making your art project.” He shrugged, putting the pen behind his ear. 

Clarke could feel a blush rising in her cheeks, though she wasn’t sure why. “You don’t have to.”

He moved his attention to her with a smile so genuine it felt misplaced on his features. “I know I don’t. But I realized earlier that if we don’t have anything to show to Octavia by the end of the semester, she’s going to get suspicious.” He knelt beside Clarke, placing the bottom of the measuring tape by her shoes and stretching it as high as his arm would let him. The gesture made her aggressively aware of how close he was. She cleared her throat and focused on his task to distract herself. She took the top of the measuring tape from his outstretched hand and raised it up to the top of her head. He stood up and squinted at the number before taking the tape from her and jotting the number down on a small piece of paper he’d procured from somewhere in the room. 

“Has anyone ever told you how short you are?” He placed his hand on the small of her back to move her forward slightly while he grabbed something behind her.

“Have you ever considered that maybe I’m not short, you’re just tall?” She leaned forward on the table. 

He grinned down at her. “Don’t girls have a thing for tall guys though?”

“Yeah, I guess.” She rolled her eyes at his cockiness.

“Good to know.” Bellamy winked before focusing his attention back to his work. Clarke’s mind suddenly felt like it was about to explode. Was Bellamy flirting with her? Did she want him to be flirting with her? She found herself getting anxious at the prospect of feeling any type of way about Bellamy that wasn’t platonic. Before she could sync her actions with her mind, her feet were walking her out the door. She could barely hear Bellamy calling to her over the blood pounding in her ears. She sprung into a jog, trying to put as much distance between her and the workshop as possible. 

She finally let up when her legs were on fire. She didn’t know how long she had been running but she had reached the other side of campus and found herself crouching against the back wall of the Library. She let herself slide to the ground and tried to regain her breath. Once she had recovered from the run, everything seeped back into her consciousness. The burning pain in her legs, the tightness in her throat, the heaviness of her chest, it wasn’t long before the tears began. Soon she was sobbing into her arms, replaying the event over and over in her head. ‘Well if he didn’t already think you were a total train wreck, he does now.’ She thought.

It took her about 20 minutes to composed herself enough to get up and head home. When she arrived, she went straight to her bedroom, only stopping to strip herself of the day’s clothes. She settled into bed feeling exhausted and numb. She didn’t sleep that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise, Clarke has intimacy issues! Those will be explored + explained more in the next chapter.  
> Also flirty Bellamy makes an appearance! Picture Bellamy's Season 1 cockiness but without the asshole aspect.
> 
> And don't worry, the smut is coming! This is definitely a slow burn but you will get your smut fix within the next couple chapters.
> 
> I'm also on tumblr: the100obsessions.tumblr.com


	4. Apologies

Clarke didn’t hear from Bellamy all week. She tried to type out an apology multiple times, going through the motions and convincing herself she’d actually send it this time (she never did). She wasn’t even sure how to explain her behavior, the workings of her mind were still a mystery to her. She decided that she would try and catch him before therapy to talk to him in person. When Monday rolled around she sat anxiously in the coffee shop that had become their meeting spot, her eyes darting to every new person who walked in hoping it was Bellamy. It never was.

Eventually she made her way to group, feeling defeated. She didn’t expect him to show up to that either, if he was properly avoiding her, so she was surprised to walk in and see him sitting among the others. He was hunched over a book, his dark curls cascading over his eyes, brushed aside slightly by big framed glasses she hadn’t seen before. He looked uncharacteristically introverted, an almost shyness enveloping his character. From a distance, she felt like an intruder peering into his own little world.

“All right Clarke, take a seat and we can get started.” Ms. Fray had snuck up behind Clarke without her noticing.

Bellamy looked up from his book at that moment and their eyes met. Clarke felt her body shrinking into itself under his gaze. She quickly slinked into the closest chair, trying to make herself as small as possible. Ms. Fray took a seat beside her and began taking charge. They went around the circle choosing their words for the day, and after that Clarke let herself drift away from the world. For the first half hour she felt like a zombie, her gaze stuck to the floor unwilling to move. Her ears were attuned to the conversations around her but she wasn’t paying attention to the words being spoken. It wasn’t until she heard Bellamy’s voice that she snapped out of her daze. Her eyes dared to drift upwards, examining his demeanor as he spoke. He was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, his left foot tapping a steady beat against the silence of the room.

“I’ve been struggling a lot lately,” she registered him saying, “with my anger towards my parents. My sister has been asking a lot of questions about our dad and I don’t have the answers she wants. Our mom never shared much information about him with us, and he left when I was two years old so my memory isn’t much to go on. It’s just another thing to add to the long list of reasons to be angry with them. My sister deserves to know, and I can’t give that to her.”

“Have you considered that it’s not your responsibility to make up for your parents’ mistakes?” Ms. Fray quipped in.

“It is my responsibility. I raised her, she’s always relied on me for these things.”

Clarke’s heart clenched. She wanted to reach out and comfort him, to take away his pain.

“Anyway, it’s fine.” Bellamy finished, swiping a hand over his face and letting out a sigh. “I’ll deal with it.”

“If you feel like sharing more at any time, Bellamy, we are here to listen.” Ms. Fray offered. Bellamy nodded a thank you and cleared his throat quietly, straightening his posture in an attempt to shake the feeling of vulnerability from himself. “Anyone else like to share how their week has been? Any thoughts you’ve had on your mind?” Ms. Fray continued.

The group was mute. Clarke took in a shaky breath and lifted her hand meekly, grabbing Ms. Fray’s attention. “What’s on your mind, Clarke?” she smiled gently, urging her forward.

“I started having panic attacks again.” Clarke tried to get her voice to steady but it quivered against her will. “They started about a week ago. Something triggered it and…” Her eyes flickered towards Bellamy and back down at her hands, fiddling with a stray thread at the bottom of her shirt. “Uhm, and I’ve been having them every day since.”

“Would you like to share with us what that trigger was, Clarke?” Ms. Fray asked.

“I freaked out on someone…” Clarke paused to choose her words wisely. “On a new friend. I’m not quite sure why, I think it just got too real? I’m not very good at letting people into my life, and most of the people I have let in have fucked me over. So, I guess I just panicked.”

Ms. Fray’s next question felt like a bullet. She felt her mind stagger backwards as if a gun had been pulled on her. “Do you think you deserve good relationships in your life?” Clarke wasn’t sure how to answer, but her reaction was answer enough to signify how she really felt.

“No.” She whispered.

“Clarke, I think you might be self sabotaging. There is a fear that comes with trauma, and it often presents itself as an instinct of protection, self preservation. You push people away because you don’t want to get hurt, and after getting hurt often enough, one starts to feel un-loveable. This fuels the need to keep people at a distance. Does that sound like it might be applicable here?”

“Yes.” Clarke felt naked in front of the world, stripped of her barriers in front of everyone. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt so raw, so transparent. She fought the urge to recoil under the pressure of the situation. Just when the silence was beginning to get to her, she heard Raven’s voice draw her attention back in.

“You are not the product of those you can not love you.” She smirked confidently, clearly proud of her addition to the conversation. “It’s a quote by some guy, I don’t remember who, but it’s what I’ve learned to live by. And anyway, anyone who sabotages a relationship with someone as awesome as you clearly isn’t worth your time anyway.” She winks jokingly, and suddenly the weight of the room has been lifted from Clarke’s shoulders.

“I agree.” She remembered Bellamy’s presence then, as he uttered just a few words that let Clarke know he forgave her. He was smiling sheepishly at her, a blush reddening his tan skin. Clarke couldn’t help but let out a relieved half laugh half sob as tears burned the corners of her eyes.

“Thank you.” She mouthed to him, repeating the action towards Raven as Ms. Fray moved on to the next person in crisis. The last half hour went by a lot quicker than the first. She actually payed attention this time, feeling rejuvenated from the support around her. The group was dismissed once the hour was up and Clarke wasted no time crossing the circle to Bellamy.

“So the party’s this weekend, eh?” he didn’t even look up from his bag before addressing Clarke. She realized he was content acting like the last week never happened, and she was unimaginably glad for that.

“Yeah, it should be interesting. Octavia’s been planning so hard she’s stressing _me_ out.” They shared a laugh as Bellamy finished putting his things in his bag and stood up.

“Oooh a party? Sounds like you kiddos have some fun planned.” Raven saddled up beside them, inviting herself into the conversation. If it was anyone else, Clarke would have found the intrusion rude, but Raven had a way of charming herself on to everyone’s good side. So instead, the action was endearing.

“Yeah, it’s my 21st birthday this weekend and his sister” Clarke gestured at Bellamy, “decided to make it her life’s mission to plan it down to every detail.” Then, radiating from her newfound confidence, Clarke decided to go out on a limb. “Did you, uh, did you want to come? Maybe?”

“Hell yeah!” Raven agreed enthusiastically.

Bellamy chuckled, “You’re going to get along great with my sister.” He said, noting her excitement.

Raven pulled out her phone and pressed a few things on her screen, a few seconds later Clarke’s own phone was buzzing in her pocket.

“I have to jet but I sent you a friend request on Facebook, just send me the details there!” She chirped before beginning to walk away. Clarke noticed a small limp in her stride she hadn’t spotted before.

“Look at Clarke Griffin, making friends!” Bellamy brought her attention back to him, slipping an arm over her shoulders and pulling her into a half hug. “I never thought I’d see the day.” He teased. 

“Hey, I got you didn’t I!”

“Yes but only by necessity. Gotta keep the image up for Octavia remember?” he squeezed her shoulder before letting his arm drop back to his side.

“Admit it, you like me a little.” They began making their way out the door, filtering into the empty hallways.

“Yeah okay, maybe just a little.” He smirked as they headed out to end their day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright y'all, get hyped for the next chapter because things are going to start picking up from now on! I wanted to get this stuff out of the way first so that Bellamy and Clarke have an understanding of each other's core issues. For Bellamy it's his family and the responsibility that was put on him from such a young age, and for Clarke it's her intimacy issues caused by years of not being able to trust the people around her. These will be delved into deeper in the coming chapters, but we've gotta have some fun first... so get ready for the smut to make an appearance in Chapter 5! ;)


	5. "21st Birthday Bash Bitches"

The day Clarke had been waiting for her entire life had finally arrived: her 21st birthday. Ever since the carpet had been pulled out from underneath her when she was 16, she had craved the complete freedom that being an adult would give her. Turning 18 felt freeing, but 21 felt like a whole new world was opening up. A world where she would be considered an adult by all means.

Octavia, however, had a bit of a different take on the night. “Your 21st birthday is all about getting as trashed as you can, and having zero repercussions.” She had said, insisting that Clarke let loose for the night. Clarke was always the responsible friend who had to stay sober enough to look after everyone else, or to be the designated driver. Her need to always be in control often put a damper on her own fun. So Octavia was right, Clarke decided, her 21st birthday deserved a special type of celebration.

Octavia had insisted on planning the night, which Clarke was more than happy to hand over to her. She had picked a club just off campus which they had been frequenting since they were 19. “It’s a safe choice.” Octavia had said, “They know us, so there’s no worries about them speculating we’re underage and we know they take our fake IDs.”

“Speculating YOU’RE underage” Clarke griped, “By that time, I’ll just be the felon contributing to your delinquency.”

“And I appreciate every minute of it.” Octavia said with mock sincerity. “Now help me make sure we didn’t forget to invite to anyone.”

They huddled closer on the couch, and began slowly scrolling down the invite list on Octavia’s laptop, open to the “21st BIRTHDAY BASH BITCHES” Facebook group Octavia had thrown together last minute.

“Okay,” Octavia started. “So obviously Bellamy’s coming, and he said he’s bringing his friend Murphy, who’s bringing his girlfriend.” Octavia began counting people on her fingers. “Jasper’s also bringing his new girlfriend, Maya, I think? Miller, Bryan, Monty, and Harper are pre-drinking with them at Jasper’s house before they join. Anya and Lexa RSVPed last night but said they might be late.” she dismissed that fact with a wave of her hand. “Oh, and Roan and Echo are coming into town for the night.”

“What!” Clarke’s entire face lit up at the news. Her and Roan had met a few year ago when she was just starting college. He had been in his final year, so their time together was short, but they became close very quickly. After college, he didn’t waste any time staying in the city. He moved a few hours away with his girlfriend, Echo, where they had since been living in the tiny city where they made their living running their own motorcycle shop. 

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner!” Clarke enthused.

“Roan wanted it to be a surprise!”

Clarke laughed incredulously at her friend. “Didn’t you kind of just ruin the surprise, O?”

Octavia’s face fell a bit at the realization. “Damn it…” Then she glanced at the clock across the room and reclaimed her eagerness. “Oh well, there’s only a few hours until we see them anyway, so it’s not like I ruined it that much.” She shrugged, moving on. “Also, I invited that cute guy I met at the gym a few weeks ago, Lincoln? We’ve been texting a lot lately and I think he’s into me, so I figured a night of drinking and dancing in my shortest dress might do the trick to lock him down.” Octavia grinned mischievously.

“Speaking of inviting new people, I met this girl in…” Clarke caught herself almost revealing the existence of group and quickly fumbled to make up a lie. “Yoga class.”

Octavia snorted “You take yoga?”

“Yes!” Clarke sat up straighter, finding herself oddly defensive about her fake hobby. “I can do yoga.”

“I didn’t think your body was that flexible, Griffin. Last week I watched you hurt your back by bending over to tie your shoes.”

“It’s a very new hobby…” Clarke mumbled, angry at her own transparency. “Anyway, her name’s Raven. She seems cool, and so far, she hasn’t been completely put off by my personality, so I invited her.”

“Do you think we’ll be able to fit all of these people into VIP?” Octavia worried her bottom lip between her teeth.

Clarke thought for a moment. “Absolutely not. But if you plan on slutting it up on the dance floor with Lincoln all night, it might free up a few spots.” She joked. 

“What can I say, I’m a team sport.” Octavia giggled back.

 

 

The clock read 7:48 when Clarke finally stumbled out of Octavia’s tiny bathroom into her equally tiny attached bedroom, resting one hand on the doorway to pop on her black wedges. Clarke didn’t own anything party worthy, so Octavia had offered to dress her for the night. The final product left Clarke in a low cut backless black dress that ended mid thigh. A little more of her was on display than she was used to, but the result made her feel powerful and sexy, two feelings that were usually foreign to her, so she accepted the new look happily. She’d let Octavia curl her blonde locks and brush them out into bombshell waves. With red lips to pull the outfit together, Clarke would say she looked like a bit of a knockout.

Octavia was matching her in an equally short dress, however hers was strapless and form fitting, adorned with tiny sequins all over. She looked like a walking disco ball, but Clarke knew that was the goal.

A swift knock on Octavia’s bedroom door introduced Bellamy’s voice. “The cab’s been waiting downstairs for 5 minutes, are you two almost ready? We have to pick up Murphy and Emori on the way and we’re gonna be late” He sounded annoyed so Clarke decided to join him in the hallway, hoping to distract him while Octavia finished her makeup. She took one last look in the full length mirror, admiring the way her dress hugged her curves as she did a tiny spin, and then opened the door.

“Sorry,” Clarke apologized, slinking out into the hallway beside Bellamy. “I’ve been ready for 20 minutes but you know how Octavia is.” She looked up at Bellamy and caught him wide-eyed and mouth agape. Blush rose to her cheeks, not sure how to interpret his gaze. She had either completely missed the mark and looked like an idiot, or Octavia’s makeover had worked.

She tried to diffuse the awkwardness by punching his arm lightly. “Wow Bell, it’s like you’ve never seen a girl before.” That seemed to shake him out of his daze.

“I just haven’t seen YOU look like a girl before.” He joked back.

As they filled the time with small talk, Clarke tried not to notice Bellamy’s biceps straining against the sleeves of his black shirt, or the tiny curl that hung over his forehead in defiance to the rest of his hair, which he had attempted to slick back. Clarke’s eyes had just started to wander downwards when Octavia burst out of her bedroom, strutting towards the front door on a mission. She flipped her hair over her shoulder and look back at the two of them still standing in the hallway. “Come on guys, the cab is waiting!” She mocked Bellamy’s earlier words. Bellamy and Clarke exchanged a grin before joining her.

 

 

Club atmospheres weren’t exactly Clarke’s thing, but she had gotten used to them over the years, mostly for her friends’ sakes who seemed to love not being able to hear each other over loud music or move from one end of the room to the other without intercepting various sweaty bodies. Clarke downed the rest of her beer, hoping her buzz would soon be enough to stop caring about her surroundings.

“I’m going to go get another beer.” She motioned towards Monty, Jasper, and Harper from across the booth. They nodded in acknowledgement.

“Get me one too!” Jasper added. 

“Dude,” Monty started, “It’s her birthday, you can’t ask her to buy you a beer! You’re supposed to be buying HER beer!”

Jasper rolled his eyes sarcastically, “I’ll pay her back. She doesn’t mind, do ya Clarke?” He turned back to Clarke expectantly, his usual excited boyish smile plastered across his face.

All she could do was laugh and shake her head before belining it to the bar.

On her way across the room she passed Octavia and Lincoln on the dance floor, Octavia’s arms slung around the man’s broad shoulders as his encircled her waist. Their hips slowly grinded together to the music, heads hung together as they shared their moment. Roan and Echo were also dancing together, but much less intimately. Roan was making Echo laugh by spinning her around tango style. As Clarke passed them, Roan grabbed her hand and spun her once. “Are you having fun, birthday girl?” He asked, pulling Echo to his side. “Come dance with us!” She chimed in, a lot more chipper than Clarke had ever seen her before. “Maybe after a few more drinks.” She winked, leaving them to continue dancing as she approached the bar.

She saddled up beside Bellamy who was nursing his own drink, quietly people watching. She gave the bartender her order and grabbed the seat beside Bellamy, taking his beer from his hands and stealing a sip.

“Hey!” He laughed, “Don’t be such a princess, Princess. Get your own beer!” he snatched the bottle back from her hand and took his own sip. 

“I’m the BIRTHDAY princess today, Bell, you can forgive me.” She giggled.

“Well, I think a birthday princess deserves birthday shots, don’t you think?” He spun forward leaning his forearms on the bar, placing his beer down and smirking when he saw Clarke picked it up to take another sip out of the corner of his eye. The bartender came back with Clarke’s beer and Bellamy ordered them each three shots of tequila.

“Bellamy Blake, are you trying to kill me?” Clarke’s jaw slackened as she stared at the clear liquid in front of them.

“Come on Clarke, are you afraid of a challenge?” he baited her, shaking a little bit of a salt on to the back of his hand.

Clarke made a split decision and grabbed one of the shot glasses, making a show of downing it before Bellamy could get out another word. Her eyes screwed shut as the liquid burned her throat. She coughed a little and shot him a glare through watering eyes. “Jesus Christ did you just feed me gasoline!?”

Bellamy doubled over laughing and Clarke could feel her face heat up, though she wasn’t sure if it was from embarrassment or the tequila.

“You did it wrong.” Bellamy said when he finally composed himself.

“Well how was I supposed to know! I’ve never had tequila before.” Clarke pouted.

“Well tonight’s your lucky night, because I’ve mastered tequila.” She watched as he licked the salt off the back of his hand and downed his shot quickly, following it by biting into a slice of lime. He squeezed his eyes shut but otherwise showed no sign of being phase by the alcohol. “Your turn.” He grinned, sliding one of her shots towards her. She looked at him warily but followed his instructions, and was happy to find the second shot a lot less jarring. They continued back and forth until Bellamy was on his last shot.

“Here hold this for me.” He said jokingly, popping the lime between Clarke’s teeth. She was drunk enough to find the action hysterical, chuckling as he grabbed her arm and shook salt in a line on her wrist. She was still laughing when he dragged his tongue across her arm slowly, took his shot, and leaned forward, grabbing the lime out of her mouth with his own teeth. Their lips grazed momentarily and all of the laughter in Clarke’s body dissipated. As he pulled away he sucked the lime into his mouth, smirking down at her dumbfounded expression.

“And that is how you REALLY do tequila.” He winked. Before Clarke could question any further, Octavia saddle up beside her. She felt her arm looping through hers and suddenly she was being pulled close while Octavia stood on her tiptoes to whisper something in her ear.

Bellamy watched Clarke’s face drop as it drained colour, her eyes flashing across the room. Bellamy followed her gaze, and that’s when he spotted Clarke’s ex leaning against the wall next to Raven, a flirty smile gracing both their features. Bellamy hadn’t really known Clarke when she dated Finn, but he was the witness to many of Clarke’s breakdowns at his apartment after the breakup. Clarke had spent a solid week in Octavia’s bedroom, leaving with red puffy eyes and a blanket cape only for food and bathroom breaks. Octavia had taken on the mom role (a rare sight) and taken care of Clarke for once, instead of the other way around. Bellamy had been so proud of his sister that he almost wasn’t bothered that Clarke was eating all of their food. Despite his best attempts to give them their privacy, he had ended up overhearing some of their conversations about Finn. Safe to say, Bellamy knew what he had done to Clarke, and if his iron tight grip on the bar wasn’t already a tell tale sign, he was angry.

“What the fuck is he doing here.” Bellamy spit, more anger in his voice that he intended.

Octavia shrugged, looking small and helpless next to Clarke. She rubbed Clarke’s arm in an attempt to soothe her, but because of Octavia’s alcohol level it seemed a little more like she was trying to pat a dog.

“I’m okay.” Clarke put her hand over Octavia’s to stop her motion. “Thanks for the heads up.”

Octavia nodded at them before leaving to rejoin Lincoln. Clarke’s gaze ended up back on the wall where Finn and Raven were apparently hitting it off. She felt like she was going to throw up, and it wasn’t because of the alcohol.

“Do you want me to do something? I can ask him to leave. Or punch him, that’s always a good option.” The last comment got a small laugh out of Clarke, but it wasn’t genuine. Her eyes were still glazed over with grief.

“It’s a public bar… We can’t really do anything. He has a right to be here.”

“Like hell he does…” Bellamy muttered into the brim of his beer before taking another swig, finishing off the bottle.

“I’m not going to let this ruin your night.” Bellamy decided. Clarke’s eyes met his, relief flashing over her face momentarily. He grabbed the nearly empty drink from her hand and set it on the bar before taking the same hand and guiding her to the dance floor. It was tiny and gritty, littered with only a few bodies colliding inappropriately to the music. Clarke tried to look over her shoulder again to locate Finn, but Bellamy’s hand gently guided her face back to his.

“Your goal for tonight is to have so much fun that Finn regrets ever taking you for granted. We’re going to make him so jealous he goes home sulking. Sound like a plan?” he smirked down at her, his palm still caressing her jaw, burning against her skin.

She nodded slightly, filled with a hundred different emotions she didn’t know how to process. But she didn’t have to process any, because suddenly Bellamy was pulling her close, making the decisions for her. She was going to have fun.

As the night went on the lights got lower, the music louder, and the drink count higher. Bellamy and Clarke had been dancing for an hour and a half, taking small breaks to consume more alcohol and chat with their friends. Their movements had gotten increasingly sloppier and now they found themselves mindlessly grinding against each other. Clarke was in front of Bellamy, her back to his chest. His hands were roaming up and down her sides, gripping at her hips every so often to steady himself. Her hands were above her head, reaching back to entangle with his hair. Their bodies swayed in rhythm to the music, pressed against each other like their stability depended on it. The current song started to fade out and Clarke twisted in Bellamy’s grasp, turning to face him. Her eyes opened for the first time in 3 songs and she squinted at the bright flickering lights, giggling as she leaned into Bellamy’s chest. He didn’t move his hands from their perch on her hips.

“Having fun yet?” Bellamy grinned.

“Mmmhhhmmm.” Clarke responded drunkly, her face giving away how purely blissed out she felt. Bellamy’s chuckle echoed through her body, sending chills through her system. She looked up at him through hooded eyes and before she could think twice about it she reached up and kissed him. It was nothing more than a peck, a thankful gesture for helping to distract her from Finn.

Bellamy didn’t respond for a good 30 seconds, his drunk mind swirling to try and piece together what was happening. He glanced around the room to try and clear his head, which is when he noticed Finn glaring at them. Bellamy got an idea, a bad one, but one that would surely make everyone happy. Except Finn.

“Wow, well that sure got Finn’s attention.”

“Want to keep his attention?” Clarke read his mind. She tugged on the hair at the base of his neck, pulling him down until he was just hovering over he lips, pausing to let him make the decision.

Bellamy crashed his lips against hers, chasing her kiss desperately, as if he had been searching for it all night. His hands slipped up her back, sliding across her exposed spine, tracing the bumps with his fingertips. His hands felt like fire against her skin, she leaned into the touch seeking more. One of his hands stopped at the base of her neck, cupping her gently so he could angle her head to deepen the kiss. His other hand found the small of her back and pulled her close, removing any residual air she had left. They were breathing into each other, supplying each other with all they need. Bellamy licked into Clarke’s mouth and she welcomed the intrusion. After a few minutes of being lost in each other, they were pulled out of their moment when someone bumped into them. Their wild eyes explored each other’s faces, coming back into focus with the world around them.

“Where did he go?” Clarke’s voice heightened, spinning around and, pulling away from a very dazed Bellamy.

“What?”

“Finn!”

“Oh… uh, I think I saw him going to the bathroom a while ago?” he answered hesitantly.

Clarke’s entire face took on a wicked grin, one that made Bellamy both excited and terrified. Her tiny hand slipped down his arm to link with his own, and then she was dragging him towards the men’s bathroom.

“I - uh - Clarke what are you doing?” Bellamy stuttered as he got pulled through the door. “Clarke!” he whisper shouted at her, tugging on her hand to get her attention. She was standing in the middle of the bathroom, shamelessly searching through the faces of the confused men. Once her eyes locked on a spot in the corner he realized what she was looking for. Or rather, who.

With a barely discernible wink towards Finn, who was standing at the sinks staring at them with his jaw on the floor, she led Bellamy into a stall, quickly locking the door behind her. His lottery of questions was cut off by a feverish kiss, all of her limbs pressed up against his. He lost his train of through quickly as he met her passion with an equal amount of his own, pushing her to the adjacent wall of the stall, caging her body with his arms.

She pulled away after a minute, panting small moans into his ear as she kissed down his neck. She tucked her fingers into his waistband, teasing his hip bones with slow circles. She reached the bottom of his neck with her mouth and nose aside the collar of his shirt, biting down lighting into the uncovered skin. Her fingers moved to his belt, languidly beginning to undo it.

“Clarke,” Bellamy stopped her, placing his hands on hers to stall her movements. “You don’t have to do this. We can just tell Finn we fooled around, if that’s what you want.” Despite his incoherent state his words were sobering. He didn’t want Clarke to do anything because she felt obligated to prove a point to someone.  
“I’m not doing this to make Finn jealous… Although that is an added bonus.” She giggled. Clarke leaned in close, her lips brushing Bellamy’s ear as her hands continued to undo his belt slowly. “I just really want to taste your cock.” She whispered. Normally she wouldn’t be this brazen, but Clarke was drunk and horny and could suddenly find herself memorizing every single freckle on Bellamy’s body. She wanted him more than she had ever wanted someone before.  
Bellamy couldn’t suppress his groan as her words sent shivers down his spine. “Well… Who am I to deny you that?” he laughed shakily, retracting his hands to let Clarke focus on her task.

Within a few seconds she was on her knees, tracing kisses down his hip bones and teasing her fingers around the waistband of his boxers. He was transfixed on her movements, watching her explore his body in awe. After drawing out the slow torture, she finally freed his cock from the strain of fabric, letting it stand fully at command for her. Her eyes were wide and her movements frozen. If Bellamy wasn’t so drunk he’d probably feel embarrassed, but the alcohol diluted any self doubt he had, leaving in its place an armor of confidence. He pet her hair out of her face, tracing a line from her ear down her jaw to her lips, pulling at her bottom lip with his thumb. She accepted the distraction from the overwhelming sight of his size and sucked his thumb into her mouth, hollowing her cheeks around it and twirling her tongue. She kept her eyes open, looking up at him with promise.

“That’s right, show me what you’re going to do to my cock.” Bellamy whispered, encouraging her forward as he pulled his thumb from her mouth, grinning at the coat of spit she left behind. He reached down and used his spit-slicked thumb to tease the head of his cock, stroking himself lazily.

Clarke’s fingers joined his, grazing along his shaft, her touch light enough to cause his cock to twitch beneath her tiny hand. She answered it by slowly leaning in and flattening her tongue against his slit, collecting the small drop of pre-cum that had appeared. Her eyes were closed, a calm expression on her face as she explored him with her tongue, stopping every so often to place an open-mouthed kiss to his head teasingly. Finally, her eyes locked with his as she sealed her lips around him and began descending his length. The groan that escaped Bellamy’s lips was feral. His head lolled back against the bathroom stall but he didn’t dare tear his eyes away from Clarke’s. He watched her swallow every inch of him. She hollowed out her cheeks once she reached the base and began slowly bobbing back and forth, giving herself the time she needed to accommodate to his size assaulting the back of her throat.

“Fuck,” Bellamy moaned, fisting his hands in her hair to get a better look at her. “You look so beautiful taking me like this, Clarke.”

She hummed in response, causing his grip in her hair to tighten as the vibration sent sparks down his legs. He faintly registered her nimble fingers rubbing the outside of his thighs, the smell of her lavender perfume clinging to his shirt, and the memory of his first sight of her earlier that night. He found himself canting his hips forward in response, causing her to gag around him.

“Shit, I’m sorry!”

“Don’t be sorry,” she hesitated, flicking her eyes down to the floor “I liked it…”

Bellamy felt a new wave of arousal at her submissiveness. He gently cupped her chin and forced her to look up at him. “Don’t be shy.”  
He decided that she’s never looked as good as she does now, beaming up at him with a ray of sunshine for a smile and embers in her eyes. She was eager and wanton, shameless in her desires. It was driving him mad.

Bellamy stepped back towards her, closing the gap between his cock and her mouth so there were only a few inches separating them. “Do you want me to fuck your mouth?” He asked in a low growl, testing the waters.

Now it was Clarke’s turn to moan, nodding more eagerly this time.

“Use your words.” Bellamy demanded, feeling a newfound confidence over the situation.

“Yes, please.” Clarke whispered, letting Bellamy slowly gather her hair behind her head as he had it earlier.

“Good girl.” Bellamy praised. Then before she could speak again, he was pulling her head back down his length. She was no longer in control, as he thrusted deep into her throat. She gagged a few times but soon learned how to relax, opening her throat for more of him. They fell into a rhythm, Bellamy in charge of the thrusting as Clarke pushed her tongue against the base of his cock, swirling it around his tip every time he pulled back. Bellamy’s movements started to get sloppy, his thrusts becoming shallower and harder, hips stuttering.

“Clarke…” Bellamy warned as he found himself approaching the edge. Clarke hummed in reply and felt him releasing into her mouth seconds later, shooting down her throat in short streams. As he pulled himself out he watched Clarke swallow, never letting her eyes leave his as she tasted him. She bit her lower lip, suddenly shy now that the act was over. He tucked himself back into his pants and quickly helped her up off the floor.

“Was that okay?” Clarke’s voice barely a whisper.

“Okay? Are you fucking kidding me?” He answered her doubts by pulling her back in for another kiss, this one long and more tender than any before. “You almost fucking killed me.” Bellamy added with a flirtatious grin as he pulled away.

“Good.” Clarke straightened, regaining her self-assurance. “Now I get to spend the rest of the night tasting you on my tongue.” She breathed out, before turning on her heels and leaving him behind in the stall, dumbstruck.

 

 

The rest of the night went surprisingly normal. They didn’t see Finn again, and Raven kept mostly to herself, joining Clarke on the dance floor every so often but not leaving much room for conversation (which Clarke was thankful for). Monty bought Clarke a drink and challenged her to a chugging contest, which she won, unsurprisingly. Jasper convinced the DJ to play a remixed version of Happy Birthday and the whole gang sang along sloppily. As the host announced it was time to clear out, Lincoln grabbed Clarke and threw her over his shoulder, insisting that “The Birthday girl doesn’t walk anywhere.” She had only just met Lincoln but she already loved him, and she loved the way Octavia beamed up at him as if he put the sun in the sky. Once they reached the parking lot Bellamy came into Clarke’s view.

“I’ll take her from here.” He patted Lincoln on the shoulder and Clarke felt her body being passed from one shoulder to the other, her hands now clinging to curly black locks.

“I CAN walk by myself you know.” Clarke argued playfully.

“I know, but this is so much more fun.” Bellamy laughed, walking away from Octavia and Lincoln to give them some time to say goodbye. 

They reached a curb and Bellamy carefully let Clarke down, steadying her as she wobbled in her place. He sat down on the perch of the street and dialed the number for a cab on his phone. Clarke snuggled into the spot beside him and leaned against his shoulder, closing her eyes and letting the sound of his voice lull her into sleep. The rest of the night was a blur. Somehow Octavia and Bellamy got her into a cab, into their house, into pyjamas, and into Octavia’s bed, though she couldn’t tell you how if her life depended on it.

 

 

Clarke woke up the next morning with a headache the size of a meteor. She opened one eye to peek around the room, trying to process the events of last night and take in her current surroundings. She looked over at Octavia who was still fast asleep beside her and smiled fondly, leaning over to give her friend a quick kiss on the forehead before dragging her nearly dead body to the bathroom. After pulling her hair up into a bun, scrubbing at her face in a poor attempt to remove last night’s makeup, and brushing the taste of liquor out of her teeth, she popped a few aspirins and left the room. As she entered the kitchen she noticed Bellamy sitting at the dinning table, hunched over a plate of bacon and eggs, poking at it with a fork absentmindedly as he nursed a cup of coffee in his other hand. The events of last night came rushing back like a slap to the face and Clarke suddenly decided that invisibility would be a pretty great superpower to have at this moment.

Bellamy looked up from his plate and smiled, his thoughts unreadable behind his expression.

“Good morning.” He chirped.

Clarke decided less words were safest until she knew what he was thinking, so she just smiled meekly and headed towards the fridge.

“How bad is your hangover this morning?” He asked from his spot across the room.

“I’ve had worse, I’ve had better.” Clarke shrugged, grabbing a Gatorade from the stash they had bought yesterday for this very occasion. She cracked open the bottle and downed half it’s contents in a matter of seconds, feeling instantly better as the cold of the drink soothed her sore throat. She realized suddenly that it could be sore from the alcohol, or from Bellamy assaulting the back of her throat with his c-

“Let me make you breakfast.” His voice brought her back into the moment. She turned to him shyly, about to insist against the idea of him making her food, when Octavia’s voice startled them both.

“Yes please!” She said as she entered the kitchen and made her way over to Clarke, helping herself to the bottle in her hands.

“Okay,” Bellamy laughed. “Breakfast for two then.”

Clarke let out a deep sigh and made herself comfortable at the table, watching as Bellamy moved around the room with ease, balancing breakfast and bickering with Octavia. Clarke pulled her legs up to her chest and rested her head on her knees, resigning from the stress of figuring everything out. Whatever happened between her and Bellamy was a topic for another time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry it's taken forever and a half to get this chapter up! Life got in the way. I got on a new medication recently that completely took away my ability to concentrate or put together coherent sentences. So apologies in advance if this chapter is a little wonky. I'm tapering of the medication now, and my drive to write is starting to come back, so hopefully I'll have more for you guys soon. Here is a super long chapter to make up for it. Thanks for being patient with me. xox
> 
> Now about the actual chapter, this is my first time ever writing smut omg pls tell me I did alright? I'm so nervous for this one and I'm not even sure why. Maybe because it's the longest one I've written so far, or because it's new territory for me, but I really hope you guys like it!

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time publishing my work and my first time writing in years, please be gentle with me! Constructive criticism is always welcome. I know this first chapter is pretty short but it's just a quick introduction to the story, I'll be posting the next chapter shortly!
> 
> If you want you can find me on tumblr @ the100obsessions.tumblr.com


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